


You Will Be

by CasuallyScreaming



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Gifts, M/M, but maybe don't know it, geralt learns how birthdays work, jaskier's birthday, shopkeepers are little shits sometimes, they're gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:27:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22905484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CasuallyScreaming/pseuds/CasuallyScreaming
Summary: Geralt knew that birthdays were important to Jaskier. Sacred, even. Jaskier loved birthdays the way Roach loved apples. Geralt was not sentimental. He had no experience with birthdays. That's what was making this so hard.Geralt has to get Jaskier a birthday gift. He has three weeks to find the perfect gift. In a town like this, it should be easy, but why does the entire town think they're lovers?
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 34
Kudos: 364





	You Will Be

**Author's Note:**

> My second Witcher fanfiction and I'm dedicating it to the "And Yet... Here We Are." Discord server because they listen to my ideas and answer my dumb questions. Thanks, guys!! I'm so glad I get to be friends with you all ;u;

Geralt knew that birthdays were important to Jaskier. Sacred, even. Jaskier loved birthdays the way Roach loved apples. He discussed them with reverence. The one day that’s truly about a single person. A bard’s dream come true. And then there were the gifts. Jaskier was an emotional person and took gifts very seriously. He kept everything he was ever gifted for as long as he could and tried to see that they got decent homes if he had to get rid of them.

That’s what was making this so hard.

Geralt was not sentimental. He had no experience with birthdays. He didn’t even know when his own was; if he ever did, it was forgotten at some point during the Trials. He had never bought a birthday gift before. Every so often he would buy something small for Jaskier. Some spices, since Jaskier likes spicy food. A new quill if his was looking a bit old. Once he even bought him a new pair of shoes after Jaskier complained about getting them muddy and gross through a particularly long trek through a swamp.

They had all gotten the same reaction. A big grin and many thanks to be followed by Jaskier talking about it for at least two days. Clearly, he enjoyed getting gifts. He definitely seemed to enjoy the gifts that Geralt had managed to scrounge up for him over the years, as small as they were.

Yet Geralt knew that a birthday gift was different. A birthday gift had to be special. It had to have meaning. It had to be truly spectacular. That’s where he was falling short. Over the past few months, he had been sneaking away a few coins here and there to save up for emergencies, and he was starting to feel like this counted. 

Jaskier’s birthday was in a month. Three weeks for Geralt to figure it out. Three weeks for Geralt to take more contracts, bigger contracts.

Three weeks to give Jaskier the birthday he deserves.

***

Two and a half weeks until Jaskier’s birthday.

The town they stopped in was bigger than usual. Geralt usually disliked bigger towns, but this one had multiple contracts, and more importantly, was known for its shops that catered to the more artistic side of life. It seemed like a good place to start to find a gift for someone Jaskier.

The bard himself was so pleased to be there that he didn’t even question why they were in a bigger town. Their first night there, his performance raked in almost double the coins he was used to, and Jaskier’s eyes shined the brightest Geralt had seen them in weeks. That was almost a gift enough, Geralt thought. 

It just wasn’t good enough. 

The next morning, Geralt’s mission began. Jaskier was an early riser — probably because of the many times he had to leave a lover’s bedroom before the sunrise — but Geralt managed to wake up even earlier. _Be back later,_ the note he left on the bard’s lute case had said. That felt sufficient enough. 

The first store Geralt went to was the instrument store. The owner looked at him warily, but switched to a more jovial appearance when Geralt dropped a bag of coin onto the counter.

“Morning, sir!” He said, smiling innocently at Geralt. “My name is Avam, how can I help you today?”

“I need a gift,” Geralt said. He didn’t think it was necessary to introduce himself.

“Oh, a gift for your bard friend, I suspect?”

Clearly, Geralt had been correct in not needing to introduce himself. He nodded a bit stiffly.

“His birthday is coming up. I need something.”

Avam hummed, looking thoughtful.

“I suppose a new lute isn’t what you’re looking for,” he said and gestured to the lutes behind him.

Geralt shook his head. 

“I thought so,” Avam continued, “Bards rarely give up their instrument for another.”

Geralt was starting to feel a bit irritated. He hoped to walk in and walk out with a gift in a few minutes’ time, but this was going to be more of an ordeal than anticipated, it seemed.

“Witchers and bards are similar, you know,” Avam said. “Bards are very creative people, and Witchers less so, but they do have one thing in common.” He turned and started rummaging through a basket under the counter. Moments later, he returned with two bundles, a pleased look on his face. “Functionality. Bards and Witchers both take great care of the things they own, and make sure they can be functional for as long as possible.”

He shoved the bundles in Geralt’s direction. Closer inspection revealed them to be a new set of strings for a lute and a vial of polish.

“I think these will do just fine for your lover,” Avam said.

“We aren’t lovers,” Geralt said. His chest constricted in a strange way.

“What do you think of the gifts?” Avam pressed, ignoring the lovers comment.

Geralt considered it. The polish definitely made sense. As tenderly as Jaskier treated his lute, it was starting to look a little dull, even if the notes it produced were as bright as always. Jaskier cared greatly for aesthetics, and would probably jump at the chance to give his precious instrument some extra care. The strings posed a different issue. Did they need to be replaced every so often? Had Jaskier mentioned needing new strings lately? 

As if he read Geralt’s mind, Avam spoke up. “It does an instrument good to have its strings replaced, but for a bard on the road with such an adventurer, it’s wise to have extra strings, in case something causes the current ones to snap. Wouldn’t you agree, White Wolf?” 

Geralt agreed.

He left the shop moments later with his prizes in hand. Mission accomplished, Geralt was feeling proud. Smug, even. With the comment about being lovers nearly out of mind, that hadn’t been nearly as hard as he thought it would be, and now he had two and a half weeks to take contracts and save coin before leaving the uncomfortably large town on his beloved horse.

***

Geralt no longer felt smug. Three days had passed and that was apparently all the time it took for doubt to work its way into Geralt’s mind. 

The strings and polish were good gifts, but they seemed underwhelming. Geralt had an awful image of Jaskier opening his gift and being sorely disappointed once setting eyes on it that wouldn’t leave his mind. After thinking about it for a few hours, he realized why. These gifts were _functional_ , not sentimental. They were the kind of things Geralt would usually get Jaskier, not something special. Not something that a birthday would warrant.

Yes, Jaskier would use these things. Geralt wanted him to _love_ them.

This time Geralt went to a shop that specialized in writing. Parchments, inks, quills and anything else one could possibly need seemed to be lining the shelves. Again, the shopkeeper seemed wary. Again, she warmed up to him the moment she saw the coin.

She introduced herself as Fanera.

Fanera was far less talkative than Avam. That seemed strange for a supposed writer. Maybe she hadn’t warmed up as much as Geralt thought, but she did let him wander the shop and consider the possibilities. He was determined to choose this gift himself, but a few minutes proved it to be futile. He felt only slightly less clueless than he did in the musical shop. Did it matter what kind of parchment Jaskier used? 

Geralt returned to the counter, feeling a bit like a dog with its tail between its legs, and explained the situation.

Fanera made a humming sound.

“A birthday gift for a bard,” she muttered, tapping her fingers on the counter. “Would you say he’s a bard who enjoys the finer things in life?”

Geralt grunted in agreement. 

“If I may suggest, I do custom parchment binding. A blank book for composing, perhaps?”

That did seem better than the strings and polish. That was something Jaskier could use as well as put his heart into. 

“It needs to be personal,” Geralt said.

Fanera narrowed her eyes a bit, considering. “You act like you’re buying a gift for a lover rather than a friend.”

Geralt stayed silent.

She laughed. “Of course, I can make it personal. Choose a color for the cover and I can put his name on it.”

In the end, they settled on a sturdy blue fabric for the outside and the finest parchment she had to offer for the inside. Jaskier’s name and was to be embellished on the cover in gold, in a regal script. If the blue Geralt chose matched Jaskier’s eyes, that was pure coincidence. 

It was pricey, but with the multiple contracts Geralt had been taking recently, it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle.

As he walked out with a promise to pick up the notebook in a few days’ time, Fanera called out to him.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Geralt of Rivia. I hope your lover enjoys it.”

The door shut before Geralt could respond. 

***

Exactly two weeks before Jaskier’s birthday, Geralt picked up the notebook. It truly was beautiful. He was sure Jaskier would love it. 

He couldn’t get the word _lovers_ out of his head.

***

Exactly two weeks before Jaskier’s birthday, Jaskier confronted Geralt.

“You’ve been acting strange lately,” he accused, poking a finger at Geralt’s chest. “What are you up to?”

Geralt grunted.

“You _do_ know what I mean. Sneaking off, returning with less coin than you had when you left.”

“I’ve been taking contracts,” Geralt said. “I’m allowed to spend my coin. You and Roach are still clothed, housed, and fed. You even have your own room. Don’t complain.”

Jaskier narrowed his eyes. Geralt sipped his ale. 

“That’s another thing,” he said. “Why do we have seperate rooms? You never want to spend that much coin.”

Geralt considered his options. The truth was that he needed a place to hide Jaskier’s gifts where the nosy bard wouldn’t find them. 

“We can afford it,” he said with a shrug. “A small price to pay for some peace and quiet.”

Jaskier spluttered.

“Ex- _cuse_ you Geralt, I happen to know you love my singing! And my lute playing!”

Geralt hummed. Jaskier dropped his head onto his arms on the bar, nearly knocking his own ale over. “Geralt, I hate to say it,” he said in a near-whisper. “But I am getting rather annoyed by my lute.”

Geralt froze. If Jaskier decided to quit playing the lute, Geralt didn’t know what he would do.

Jaskier sighed dramatically. “I would never get rid of my lute,” he said as if he could read Geralt’s mind. “It’s just that the strap for the case digs into my shoulder in the most uncomfortable way.”

“Unfortunate for traveling,” Geralt said, his mind already working on a solution.

“Indeed,” Jaskier sighed again. “If I get a new case, I would feel guilty for throwing out this perfectly good one. She’s treated me so well, Geralt.”

He sat up and grinned. “I suppose it’s the price I pay for art. Haven’t you heard that before, Geralt? An artist must suffer for his work!”

“What about his Witcher?” Geralt asked.

Jaskier scoffed. “His _Witcher_ is blessed to be in the presence of his bard, and doubly so to witness the bard’s creative process!” 

Jaskier stood up and grabbed his lute, ready to perform again.

“Honestly Geralt,” he said, shaking his head. “You should learn to count your life’s blessings. I’m sure you learned how to count at your Witcher school.”

Geralt snorted and Jaskier made his way to the stage. The crowd cheered. Jaskier played. Geralt contemplated.

***

It was a leather worker’s shop next. 

His name was Horvan. 

Again, the cycle repeated. Displeased. Coin. Appeased.

Horvan confirmed that a new strap for Jaskier’s lute case would be easy. Making sure it would be comfortable for long-distance traveling would be a little trickier and the aesthetic aspect of it even more so.

“I can take my coin elsewhere,” Geralt said. 

Horvan assured him that, while difficult, it was still possible. More importantly, it would be done before Jaskier’s birthday.

A black leather strap with padding for comfort and dandelions embossed along the length of it wasn’t cheap, but neither was the notebook. Geralt left the shop feeling pleased with himself. 

As he made his way back to the inn, Geralt saw the parchment seller standing outside of her shop. Feeling strangely compelled, Geralt walked over.

“Witcher,” she greeted as he got closer. “Have you given your lover his gift yet?”

Geralt shook his head. “His birthday is in thirteen days.”

She smiled. “I see you aren’t denying that you are lovers.”

Geralt frowned. “We … aren’t.” He shifted almost uncomfortably. 

Fanera hummed. “You will be,” she said. “Care to come inside?”

Geralt bought three small bottles of ink in varying colors and a new golden quill to match the notebook.

***

The days leading up to Jaskier’s birthday, Geralt spent his time with Roach, taking contracts, watching Jaskier perform at various inns and taverns, and resting.

The word _lovers_ stuck in his mind the entire time.

***

The last two days before Jaskier’s birthday were spent preparing.

With only two days before the day, he picked up the strap. It was exactly as he imagined it would be. The dandelions stood out when the light hit them, yet had an appealing subtlety about it. The added padding would definitely ensure the safety of his bard’s shoulder.

He went to a bakery after picking up the strap to inquire about their spiced bread. It was decided that he was to pick it up the morning of his birthday, along with a small cake for them to share.

“I hope your lover has a good birthday!” The baker had called as he left.

“We aren’t lovers,” Geralt said before the door shut.

_“You will be,”_ Fanera’s voice echoed in his mind.

Geralt did his best to wrap the gifts. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a skill Vesemir deemed necessary to teach his students. They looked like a child had tried to wrap them. It would have to do. Geralt doubted he could learn to do better in the time he had, and he only bought so much paper to wrap with.

There was still something missing.

It felt like Geralt had touched on all of Jaskier’s primary interests. His lute, composing, his comfort, fine foods. Yet there was still a ball of something in the pits of Geralt’s stomach. 

It didn’t let him rest easily. He spent most of his night in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to work it out.

Geralt fell asleep thinking about lovers.

***

Geralt woke up the morning of Jaskier’s birthday.

His looks. Jaskier loved his looks. 

Geralt cursed, rolling out of bed to get dressed. Of course. That’s what he was missing. 

He made his way to the marketplace in a rush, still feeling half asleep. From what he could tell, he wasn’t the only one. Merchants were just beginning to set up shop. Geralt counted at least two yawns. Three, if he counted himself.

There had to be something.

Geralt examined every booth. The more he looked, the bigger the ball in his stomach grew. It was as if he had eaten pure lead.

Then he saw it.

A small booth, practically hidden by the two significantly larger booths on either side of it. Behind it, a young girl sat wrapped in a shawl. On the table lay different necklaces. 

Geralt walked over.

The cycle was broken. The girl wasn’t afraid of him at all. Her face lit up in a smile as he approached, and she stood to shake his hand.

“Hello, sir!” She said brightly. She didn’t appear to be tired at all. “My name is Janina!” 

He couldn’t help the small smile that worked its way onto his face.

“Geralt,” he said. 

She smiled even wider. “Are you looking for something special?”

“You could say that,” he said with a nod. “It’s for a birthday.”

Her eyes twinkled. Janina appeared to be almost bouncing with excitement now. “I love birthdays! Tell me about your lover so I can help you choose something!”

Geralt wanted to argue and say that they weren’t lovers, but it seemed futile at this point. The entire town seemed determined to see the Witcher and his bard as lovers. And, maybe, Geralt was starting to agree with them.

“He’s a bard,” Geralt said. “His eyes are light blue, like cornflowers. He sings and plays the lute.” 

There were so many more things Geralt could have said of Jaskier, but the girl was already lunging towards one corner of the table with a gasp. A moment later, Geralt had a bracelet being shoved into his hands.

The ribbon was the same blue as Jaskier’s eyes. The silver pendant depicted a flying songbird holding a dandelion, a small golden stone representing the blossom.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” The girl breathed. “Almost like destiny.”

“Almost,” Geralt agreed, still focusing on the bracelet.

The girl looked extremely pleased. “That’s the first one I’ve made! I finished it last night!”

Geralt offered her a small smile. “You did an incredible job.” 

He gave her a handful of coin. Her eyes went wide. “This is too much,” she started. “My grandmother said I shouldn’t charge as much for my stuff as hers until I get better at it, so — “

“No,” Geralt cut her off. “This is perfect. Thank you.” 

Janina’s smile almost rivaled Jaskier’s in terms of brightness. She thanked him profusely. He left with his final gift, the ball in his stomach gone, and didn’t falter as the call of “I hope your lover enjoys it!” followed him.

***

Geralt grabbed the bread and cake on the way back to the inn, took some time to wrap the choker, and set about waking Jaskier up. He knocked on Jaskier’s door until it swung open to a slightly disgruntled bard.

“Is something wrong?” Jaskier asked, pausing to yawn and rub at his eyes. 

It was endearing, and Geralt felt something in his chest.

“No,” Geralt said before turning and walking towards his own room. Jaskier got the message and followed, not bothering to put on a full outfit. 

Outside of Geralt’s room, they stopped, his hand on the doorknob.

“Jaskier,” he said, turning to look at the bard. “Happy birthday.”

Geralt swung the door open, and Jaskier stared with wide eyes at the bed, where Geralt had neatly arranged his poorly wrapped gifts.

“Geralt?” Jaskier muttered, eyes still glued to the bed.

Geralt shoved him into the room, and that was all it took to get Jaskier to walk over to the bed. 

“I didn’t know what to get you,” Geralt said, “So I got you … everything.” 

Jaskier huffed out a disbelieving laugh.

“I bought spiced bread for you, if you want to eat before you open them,” Geralt tried. Jaskier shook his head wildly. 

“Can I open them now?” Jaskier was bouncing on the balls of his feet, excitement written all over his face. 

Geralt grunted.

Jaskier raced to the bed and tore into the first gift his hands landed on.

“Oh! Brilliant,” he said with a grin. “I needed some polish, and new strings are always good to have!” 

“Exactly my thoughts,” Geralt said. He pictured Avam laughing at him.

Jaskier was already tearing into the next gift. This time, he stopped moving altogether. 

“Geralt,” he said breathlessly. “This is for me?”

“It does have your name on the cover,” Geralt said.

Jaskier laughed, never taking his eyes off the book. He ran his hands over the cover, inspecting his name, the paper, the binding. 

“Open that one next,” Geralt said, motioning to a smaller package to Jaskier’s left. 

The quill and ink were met with a similar glee as the strings and polish. Jaskier said the different colored inks would make it easier to make notes on his ballads. He said the golden quill was quite lovely, and matched the cover very well.

Geralt watched as he opened the strap.

“Geralt!” Jaskier said, sounding a little choked. “This must have cost you a fortune!”

Geralt shrugged. “If you injure your shoulder on the road, you’re even more difficult to travel with.”

Jaskier laughed, clearly unaffected by the Witcher’s words.

“True,” he said. He ran his hands over the embossing almost reverently and gave the padding a few pokes, almost as if to test the comfort of it.

“We can see how well it works tomorrow, when we leave town,” Geralt said.

Jaskier hummed, already reaching for the final gift. 

Geralt expected more. He expected Jaskier to gasp, to laugh, to do anything but stare at it silently with a blank expression. The ball in his stomach started to creep back in.

“I can return it if you dislike it,” Geralt said, feeling incredibly small.

“No,” Jaskier whispered, “I love it.” 

Geralt stared at Jaskier. Jaskier stared at the bracelet.

“Why?” Jaskier asked, finally breaking the silence. 

“I … care about you,” Geralt said. “It’s your birthday. It’s important to you.” 

Jaskier looked up at Geralt, eyes shining. Geralt thought of Fanera.

“ _You will be,_ ” he heard in his mind.

Jaskier launched himself off of the bed and into Geralt’s chest.

Geralt stumbled back, mostly out of shock. With only slight hesitation, he wrapped his arms around Jaskier. 

“Thank you,” Jaskier whispered.

“You’re welcome,” Geralt said back. 

They stayed like that for more than a few seconds. It somehow felt like a lifetime and just a few moments all at once. 

Jaskier looked up at Geralt, hope shining in his eyes. 

“You said there was spiced bread?”

“And cake,” Geralt said with a small smile.

Jaskier pulled away, demanding that Geralt fetch his treats while Jaskier attempted to tie the bracelet to his own wrist. Dumping the bread onto the bed unceremoniously, Geralt helped, making sure the knot was tight enough to stay on.

“Later today, we’ll get a clasp for it to ensure it stays on,” Geralt said.

Jaskier hummed, eyes closed, mouth already full of bread, cheeks puffing out slightly.

They rode out of town the next day, Jaskier’s bag heavier than when they arrived. Geralt thought about what he had told Jaskier. It wasn’t quite a confession. He didn’t think he was ready for that quite yet. 

He glanced down at the bard, who was examining his new strap in the morning light and humming lightly. 

He thought of the girl who had sold him the bracelet. He thought of the parchment seller. 

“ _You will._ ”

Jaskier looked up and met Geralt’s gaze. He didn’t say anything, but grinned at him instead before turning back to his lute strap.

Geralt smiled.

Maybe she was right. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave a comment and kudos!


End file.
